


If I'm

by RealityBender



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Lucifer makes you feel powerful, Rebellion, References to Abuse, References to Depression, Religion, Song fic, Very brief mentions of underage sex and infidelity, empowerment, faith - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-15 22:00:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19304668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealityBender/pseuds/RealityBender
Summary: I found a black bat tangled in a birch treeIf I’m a body you’re a blanket on me.If I’m a forest you’re the field at my feet.If I’m a corner that the dark backs into,You’re the darkness that this corner clings to.If I’m the mountain with the moon above me,I, the mountain, choose the moon to envy.





	1. Song Lyrics

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is extremely self-indulgent (As with all my writing) so please bear with me. The title is taken from the song, "If I'm" by Sea Oleena and the themes in this story are heavily based off the lyrics of the song.

**(Sea Oleena - If I’m)**

 

“You led the way to off-white walls

 and wooden floors and open doors

and birds and birds and birds 

and all with dusty backs 

among these books all leather-jacketed

but i could only find, in my own time, 

the way to Arizona's yellow tent 

afloat upon the lake.

  
And I’m alone but in another way

  
I found a black bat tangled in a birch tree

If I’m a body you’re a blanket on me.

If I’m a forest you’re the field at my feet.

If I’m a corner that the dark backs into,

You’re the darkness that this corner clings to.

If I’m the mountain with the moon above me,

I, the mountain, choose the moon to envy. 

  
And there’s a line on my palm, 

I know its not very long.

I know its not what you want, 

but there’s a light in the dark,

and there’ll be light if I’m gone.”


	2. Epilogue

You were always the spiritual one of the family.   
  
Most people complained that they were raised in a religious family, had it shoved down their throats like bitter medicine to remedy unseen ailments.

But not you. No, never you.

You clung to faith like it was all you had, because it *was* all you had. It was your iceberg in a melting sea that kept you precariously above the surface, never quite drowning but so very, very close to it.

Because life was too terrifying to live without faith.

And maybe you needed it, needed to feel like there was something to work for.

So you prayed to God, and begged to be accepted.

The trouble with all that faith is that you start to feel like a slave to it.

Everything is a sin as long as people find a way to twist it that way.

When you were in your teens you started experimenting with your looks, started dressing bravely, wearing lower cuts and shorter hems and bolder colors on your face. You were like a flower just realizing that she had the ability to blossom, to attract the bumble bees with her sweet nectar.

But you didn’t realize your nectar could be turned into poison.

You really hadn’t meant to draw his eye that night, you hadn’t meant to steer him away from God’s light and away from his family, away from his wife. You hadn’t meant to make him a sinful man.

Your preacher told you to repent. He’d sent you on your way, told you not to return. Said that you sickened him.

Said you were a sinful creature.

So you went home.

You prayed.

You repented.

You knelt at the foot of heaven and were made to beg.

The weight of all that silence dragged you into those depths you feared so very much.

Nobody would tell you that you were worthy.

Nobody would understand the things you left unsaid.

And you were alone in a way you’d never known before.

You had lost your faith and you felt

Empty.

Abandoned.

Adrift.

That was when he came to you.

That was when he told you that you didn’t need anyone to make you feel worthy.

He told you that you were power.

He told you that you were an inferno.

He told you to stand.

He told you to be proud.


	3. Chapter 1

“Stand up.”

At first, everything around you was dark. You could feel no floor beneath you, no air around you; Nothing but the pressing emptiness.

You might have found it peaceful, if it weren’t for that little nagging voice in the back of your mind, that kept whispering...

“Stand up.”

You registered an ache in your knees, and found that you were kneeling. Your back was hunched and your palms were pressed flat to the cold earth. Your body felt so, so very heavy, as if something were pressing down on you from above, trying to smash you into the dirt like an insect. Still, the voice in your head insisted...

“Stand UP.”

You raised your head and blinked your eyes open, looking around. You were surrounded by trees on all sides, and beneath you was the forest floor. The sky above was dark and starless. You felt a cold chill on your face, like a winter breeze that kissed your skin ‘til it turned pink.

“STAND UP.”

The voice was shouting now, but it didn’t feel angry. It felt... encouraging? You pushed up from the ground with all your might, despite the overwhelming amount of pressure that you were fighting against. Slowly, with trembling limbs, you began to stand. It was like fighting gravity itself, and you felt so powerless, but you stood in spite of it.

Once you were on your feet, the pressure seemed to dissipate, and you felt all the weight lifted from your shoulders. You exhaled with relief, finally getting your bearings properly. This forest didn’t look like any you’d been in before, and there weren’t any telling landmarks to hint at where exactly you were. But, as you turned to face forward, you startled slightly at the sight of a man who hadn’t been standing there moments before, you were sure of it.

Looking at him, though, you could immediately determine he wasn’t simply a man. He *looked* human for the most part, but the distinguishing feature was a pair of sprawling black wings that unfurled widely behind him, stretching at least four times his own height. They were massive, and breathtaking. Something inside you longed to reach out and run your fingers through the silky feathers.

He regarded you with an unreadable expression, and you took a moment to take in his features more closely. He had the face of an older male, in his 40s perhaps, with cold blue eyes that bore into you like search lights. His hair was blonde, short and somewhat tussled and messy. He had a bit of light stubble across his chin and jaws. All in all, he was easy on the eyes, not exactly classically handsome but certainly good looking.

“Who are you?” You asked, finally finding your voice. It came out as a reverent whisper, and he tilted his head with a small smile. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little unsettling the way he looked at you. It felt a little bit like you were a mouse, standing at the foot of a mountain lion. Power seemed to radiate off of him in waves, washing over you.

“Call me Lucifer. Or Lucy, if you prefer...” He chuckled at his own nickname, before continuing.

“But we aren’t here to talk about me. You, my dear, have been praying. Very desperately, I might add. I just want to know... why?”

He raised an eyebrow along with the question, hands held out to the side in an open gesture. It all struck you as very strange. Then again, dreams seldom made much sense, so you chalked it up to stress giving your imagination a little extra fuel for weirdness. You pondered over Lucifer’s question. Why were you praying? You weren’t sure you knew the answer to that yourself.

“B-because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you’ve committed a sin...” You inwardly flinched at how uncertain you sounded, how your voice wavered with each word.

“And what exactly was your sin?”

You stared at him. Was this supposed to be some kind of test? Were you meant to confess to something more than you already had in all your prayers? No, that didn’t seem accurate. You reasoned that this was most likely a product of your own insecurities, your brain attacking your self-confidence even in your sleep.

“I tempted a married man, brought the devil out in him.”

He deadpanned at you then, looking entirely bored with your explanation. You fidgeted slightly, staring down at the ground.

“I assure you I had nothing to do with what he did... and neither did you. That man was just waiting for an excuse to do what he did- and he would have done it no matter what you were wearing, or how you acted. Hell, it didn’t even have to be you. Could have been any young, pretty girl.”

It struck you perhaps a little bit late that he was confirming his identity as Satan. You should have caught on when he introduced himself as ‘Lucifer’ but honestly the whole situation was overwhelming so you’d ask to be forgiven for your lack of thought processing. Then, the words he spoke sunk in, and you felt a little bit sick to your stomach.

“The preacher told me to-”

“Your preacher is a hypocritical bastard. You have nothing to repent for. The only sin committed here was that you were made to feel guilty for something completely out of your control. You were made to kneel.” He began to circle you then, as he spoke. You could only hang your head and listen, feeling out of place.

“You reached out for guidance and love, poured your heart out to heaven and they told you to *kneel*. They demanded submission from you even in a time when what you most needed was strength. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

You had to admit- he had a point. Looking at it from an outside perspective, it all seemed so twisted. You were surprised you hadn’t seen it that way beforehand. You felt him standing behind you, felt his gaze on the back of your head.

“You don’t have to hang your head, I’m not here to scold you. Quite the opposite, actually.” He took a step closer so that you could feel the ice seeping off of him. It chilled you to the bone but it wasn’t unpleasant. In a way, such extreme cold felt like its own sort of fire, igniting from within and spreading through you, enlivening you. He placed a hand on your shoulder and you raised your head, staring straight ahead.

“I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to kneel. That you shouldn’t. I want you to stand up and feel powerful.” The words themselves struck something within you, and you felt yourself straighten up just a bit. But you still didn’t really understand.

“Why? If you really are... Satan... why waste your time giving me a pep talk?” You couldn’t think of any reason why a fallen angel would spend an ounce of time dawdling with a human- one of the creatures that had brought about his very downfall, to boot. You felt him move closer behind you, felt his exhale on the space between your jaw and your shoulder.

“Because you have something inside you that I have been searching for far longer than any amount of time can measure. You have that little extra something... the same something that I have in myself.” The low rasp of his voice in your ear sent your skin to goosebumps and you had to steady yourself at the intense implications of the words he spoke.

“So, what... I’m like... a chosen one, or something?” You licked your lips, not sure if you could handle the pressure of some immense cosmic responsibility looming over you. he chuckled, and by now his lips were all but pressed against the skin of your neck. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be disturbed by it. In a way, it almost felt natural. You wondered if that should be concerning.

“Oh, no. You’re not just a chosen one. You’re my destined one. The only one. I was always supposed to find you. *We* were always meant to have each other, in every way.”

The words hung in the air like a fine mist that enshrouded you, permeated your skin and sunk into your lungs until you could hardly catch your breath.


End file.
